curiouslykatt's reviews
1087 reviews

“Our brains are made so that we can only love a cat as a cat and not as a bird or an elephant. If we want to love a cat, we want to see a cat, touch its fur, hear it purr, and get scratched if we get our petting wrong. We don't want to hear it bark, and if the cat started growing feathers, we would kill, study, and finally, exhibit it as a monster.”

What a wonderfully chaotic, cringe, and uncomfortable read. There’s a talent in making a reader laugh one moment and cringe the next, before the page is turned. I think most readers will decide within the first three pages if they can get into this novella, needing a certain level of perverse curiosity, or if they’ll bug their eyes out and say “NOPE”. 

Told in a rapid fluid monologue, our narrator is visiting Dr.Seligman and while the doctor has his head between the patient’s legs, our narrator begins a story of how they dreamt they were Hitler. What follows is our patient unburdening themselves of all the inner strifes they are carrying, frankly it reads like unfiltered anesthesia word vomit. Unhappiness in their life, body dysmorphia, fear of turning into their mother, inequality in gender norms, guilt of nationality, and the reality that having sex with a robot would make life easier. 

This is a book that explores identity. How do we determine our identity, can we change our identity, and frankly how much of our identity is determined outside of our control. 

It’s a story I loved and it had me laughing, had me questioning why I was laughing, and should I be laughing, all in one paragraph. 

It was considered too taboo to be published originally in the authors native tongue, and while it’s a book I loved and enjoyed fiercely, I don’t recommend it to many. If you do end up reading it and loving it, I like you. You little wonderful weirdo. 

“You know when you look back at your life and suddenly can't pretend anymore that you didn't know something? In some ways, I have always known that I was a barking cat.”

“I am often asked, “Which Korea do you come from? North or South?” It is a nonsensical question. The chance of me or any Korean out and about in the world being from the North is almost nil. Virtually no one gets out of North Korea.”

Suki Kim spent six months teaching the sons of the North Korea’s elite, at the university of Pyongyang University of Science & Tech. She is in the country under the guise of being a missionary and English teacher, all while collecting notes to offer a glimpse inside the strangeness that is North Korea. 

This was a fascinating read and a rare opportunity to hear stories from a different class of citizens (the sons of the elite) versus the stories of commoners which are more readily available. Typically the memoirs around North Korea are from defectors and escapees trying to flee the country. Kim takes a different approach and is actively trying to get into North Korea. 

For many, North Korea appears so backwards and it’s hard to imagine and truly grasp the claustrophobic censorship because it is not a reality we experience. There are glimpses of outside influences sneaking through the cracks, these kids know who Bill Gates is, but have never heard of Steve Jobs. A country hell bent on isolation to maintain its regime, all the while students need to learn English to be successful. They are taught to believe America is the enemy but getting American cigarettes is a status symbol. It’s a constant push and pull of conflicting duality. 

One part of the memoir that stuck with me is how the students speak and act as a collective, even from their youth there is no individuality and the rampant lying as a whole is almost encouraged. Students easily lie to cover for one another in any instance, and there is no “I” only “we”. I found this absolutely fascinating and can’t help but wonder if it’s a survival technique (think Zebra’s herding together so predators can’t isolate one out of the herd) and if lying and truth telling are one in the same when you know no difference. 

Overall a worthwhile memoir about a teacher’s time in a prison, hidden behind an academic facade and an opportunity to peek into a not quite real not quite dystopian country. 

“Most of life is so dull it is not worth discussing, and it is dull at all ages. When we change our brand of cigarette, move to a new neighborhood, subscribe to a different newspaper, fall in and out of love, we are protesting in ways both frivolous and deep against the not to be diluted dullness of day-to-day living.”

Capote is a genius. In a 138 pages of a lost manuscript that was published posthumously, Capote captures a beautifully, imperfect, messy grey summer. 

You can easily read it on a beautiful summer afternoon and at the end of it be satisfyingly sad. 

Grady is in the twilight of her youth. She has one summer to be precocious and let life happen to her and that summer is now. Left to her own devices she embarks on a summer that is for her and her alone. From cocktails with her friend Peter, to her secret affair with Clyde,

this summer will be for her. 

Summer crossing is easily a novella you could read ten times over and pull out new pieces and quotes worth diving into and dissecting. I got to spend a beautiful summer afternoon with a friend discussing and pulling at various threads from this book and each new idea made me love the book even more. 

The manuscript was forgotten for decades and likely left unfinished by Capote, and frankly it’s a perfectly abrupt ending. 

I have never been so happy to be left so sad by a book. Grab a glass of rosé, find a seat in the sun and read this book. 

‘So, you found an old letter that mentions a book no one’s ever heard of, hidden in a bookshop that doesn’t exist.’

May Bookclub read: The Lost Bookshop by Evie Woods. 

Lost indeed.

This one was not for me, which is disappointing because accordingly to my kindle I tagged ten quotes within the first few chapters. I was in it. I was enjoying it. I loved Madame Bowden. IT COULD HAVE BEEN A DELIGHTFUL READ. 

Dual time lines, multi POV, great all things I love. 

Trying to tackle a multitude of complex traumatic issues flippantly, while weaving between past and present, fantasy and real life, less so. I think something editing would have really boosted the enjoyability and if Martha and Opaline had more distinct voices. Pick one struggle, treat it appropriately and with some depth, not throw every struggle at the characters and shoulder shrug the details away. In a way, this read like a debut where the author is still trying to find their footing so I was shocked to find out Evie Woods is a pen name for an established author. 

The last quote I tagged was at 42% and frankly it went downhill well before that, it all started after a man writing a PhD level paper didn’t think to use Google.

A lovely idea of a book that could have been a treasure, but ultimately a poorly delivered unsatisfying story.